Page 16 of The Silent
Learning was useful. Peace was an illusion. She’d had no peace since Kanokhaddied.
A playful song danced at the back of her mind. Kanok’s voice. It was the only sound she heard in her mind anymore. The other voices had been snuffed out. The stars were dim. She’d never told her brothers or sisters that fact. But then, Prija didn’t like to speak. She’d avoided it foryears.
The only power she had left was like a stone. Once, she’d woven delicate, secret magic. Magic that had frightened her own father. Now she could only throw her power at others, hoping to wound them enough that they’d leave her alone. She kept trying to wound the foreigner, but so far the woman had proven surprisinglyresilient.
Moonfaced girl. The first time Prija had seen her, that was what the woman reminded her of. Her skin had a luminous quality that seemed to reflect light like the moon. She had soft edges and a gentlevoice.
Prija was not soft. Her fingers were callused from playing hersaw sam sai; the three-stringed bowed instrument was her only voice since her father’s death. Her feet were broad and padded from running and climbing through the forest. Her hair was perpetually tangled. She was thinandhard.
She was not like Bun Ma, whose soft face and body reminded Prija of her dead mother. Kanchana wanted to be a warrior. She pretended to be hard, but she was soft inside. Prija sometimes heard her crying at night. And as for Intira, the girl was soft as boiled rice, and Prija would kill to keep her that way. Intira’s mind was like one of the crystal vases Prija had seen once in the village. Cut finely and reflecting a thousand facets, the young girl’s mind was as beautiful as it wascomplex.
The moonfaced girl was interesting. She was hard but appeared soft. And she was stronger than the others realized. Stronger than any of them thought. If she weren’t, Prija would have knocked her unconsciousbynow.
Silently, Prija picked herself up off the bamboo floor and walked into the forest. She liked the lessons because they allowed her to spend quiet time with her sisters, but they weren’t useful. Prija already knew how to control her thoughts. It had been an accident, butsheknew.
All you had to do to mute the voices around you was to kill your father and destroy most ofyourmind.
ChapterFour
Leo woketo the smell of lemongrass and coconut drifting through the Bangkok scribe house as the setting sun backlit the bamboo shades that covered his windows. He could hear the bustle of the city below where the vendors at the night markets were setting up stands and preparing food for the crowds that Fridaynight.
He’d indulged in a short nap before dinner after greeting Dara and her brother Rith when he’d arrived. Alyah showed him to his borrowed room and told him to rest and refresh himself beforedinner.
The Bangkok scribe house was a narrow wooden house that stretched five stories up from the street. The painted gates concealed a peaceful garden decorated with lily ponds and a myriad of ladders and stairs leading to rooms surrounding the central courtyard. It was the most immaculate scribe house Leo had ever seen. His room was small and the bed was short, but both were more than adequate. He stayed in far less comfortable lodgings for most of hisassignments.
His room was also close to the kitchen. He suspected someone in the Istanbul house had warned them of hisappetite.
Oh cue, his stomachgrumbled.
He stretched up and forward, reaching for his toes as he flexed his feet. Thetalesmon his arms appeared to move as his muscles did. The black ink had been patiently scribed over hundreds of years. His longevity spells, halting his age in what humans would guess was his late twenties. Spells for patience and self-control. Spells for clear vision. For empathy—he’d long suspected Chamuel’s blood flowed in his veins. For swiftness in battle and wisdom in strategy. Histalesmwere as much a part of him as his handsorfeet.
Bent over, he breathed out a prayer for clarity and perception. Though he had been called to this scribe house to advise, he also needed to learn. If he was to advise his brothers and sisters here, he must hear their needsfirst.
Leo was young, and any request for instruction still humbled and surprised him. For decades, he’d been the lowest-ranked warrior at the Istanbul house. The fact that he’d acquired a reputation for being a good teacher stillsurprisedhim.
He rose from the bed and dressed in the loose pants and cotton shirt he’d seen the other scribes wearing. He was glad his last visit to Shanghai had been in the summer. He had plenty of clothes for warm weather even though he’d had to have most of his tailored. He stood out like a blond Goliath in Southeast Asia. Fortunately, Thailand had enough international tourists and residents that locals rarely gave himnotice.
He walked down the old wooden staircase and into the courtyard to see dinner preparations taking place. The long table stood under a covered patio with benches and chairs surrounding it. Scribes and singers hurried to place steaming dishes and plates of fruit to share. This scribe house, like most, took their meals communally. Leo was glad. Eating with strangers was the best way to make newfriends.
He saw Alyah walking toward him and raised a hand. “Hello,sister!”
“Did you rest well?” sheasked.
“I did,thankyou.”
She nodded. “The cook was informed that you love Thai food, so she’s prepared quite a feast. She was very excited about a new visitor with a large appetite. I hope you arehungry.”
Leo grinned. “Starving.Always.”
Alyah smiled. “Do you really eat six timesaday?”
“Did they warn youaboutme?”
“There may have been a note at the bottom of the introductione-mail.”
Alyah and Leo walked to the table, which had attracted most of the Irin from the surrounding rooms. Leo counted four Irin and two Irina who appeared to be warriors along with two Irina in the kitchen and another Irin who stood watch at the gate. A surprisingly balanced table for a scribe house. Across the globe, scribe houses favored males. It was a near-universaltradition.
Dara sat at the head of the table with her brother on her left. She was a short, round singer with hair twisted into an elaborate bun at the back of her neck. Her features were sweet and pleasing, though her dark eyes revealed the sharp mind of a keen strategist. Leo suspected that Dara saweverything. Rith, her brother, could have been her twin. His hair was clipped short and he wore a neat beard, but his features were the same. His stocky build, the same. His gaze was just asarresting.
